


so tear me open, but beware

by jumpstarts



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Alternate Universes, Drabbles, M/M, Short Stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-06-08 01:50:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 12,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15232740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpstarts/pseuds/jumpstarts
Summary: sometimes you fall in love at the right time. sometimes you don't.





	1. we are only as good as our nightmares ; rockstar au

**Author's Note:**

> but all of those stories need to be told. aka my head is a cesspool of things that do not happen and this is practically an act of lobotomy.

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 **we are only as good as our nightmares** ; _rockstar au_

 

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there's a song at the back of changmin's head. he listens when the studio is swathed in silences, when he's not too busy singing love stories that aren't his and serenading the rest of the world with commercialised fairy tales. he writes the words down in almost feverish excitement, handwriting shaky like an addict in withdrawal but everything falls into place, better than anything else he's had to offer. he lies to manager-sshi, "just a break, my throat's aching", and heads for a filthy little corner in the heart of the city. he pulls the cap low over his new haircut, sunglasses and face mask in place because privacy is a luxury he can rarely afford.  
  
yunho's already waiting. perfect smiles and slanted eyes and changmin counts the bruises on yunho's neck he pretends he doesn't see.  
  
it still makes his teeth ache.  
  
today is fast food day and changmin stares at his cheeseburger in disgust, thinks about the miles he has to run just to work the calories off. he pushes the burger away and tells yunho about the song. confides, "it's about a valley on a star." yunho looks up from his fish & chips and his smile is puzzled because fast food day is not share your breakdown stories day. they're nowhere near drunk enough for share your breakdown stories day. changmin picks up a fry, swipes it through the blob of ketchup between them. he holds it out for yunho. "it might be nice. living in a valley."  
  
yunho accepts the offering, lips closing around changmin's fingers. "a valley on a star." yunho licks his lips and looks at changmin, thoughtful. maybe fond. "that's a bit weird, isn't it?"  
  
changmin wants to say _no, weird is when you're not in love with me why aren't you in love with me yet_.  
  
"you're made for big cities." yunho laughs and everything gets a little brighter, clearer. the guys at the other table glance at them and linger on yunho; changmin doesn't like the calculating hunger in their eyes. "you don't even like camping."  
  
"that's different," changmin huffs, annoyed. there's a time when he could get out of town with yunho, just the two of them, and he didn't have to worry about schedules, about being photographed yelling at a large, aggressive beetle that's trying to take over his sleeping bag. he watches yunho startle when his phone chimes and remembers that there are not-changmins in armanis and ferraris clamouring for his attention. yunho is slow when typing his reply, pecking at the words like he's writing poetry instead of filthy promises. "do you have to go?"  
  
time is money and changmin hates that he can't offer his to make yunho stay. they've shared too much for too long for him to even consider buying yunho's affection.  
  
yunho kisses him, slow and sweet. free of charge. "take care, changminnie."  
  
changmin stumbles into the studio twenty minutes late and rips up music sheets, songs about fifty kinds of love at first sight because yunho can't fall in love, waiting for something changmin doesn't even understand and is too afraid to ask. his manager goes out to get coffee, maybe a prescription for valium, and the producer looks at him with the kind of impatience that borders on disgust. he thinks about someone else running their hungry hands over yunho's skin and yunho's lips and the soft spot between yunho's thighs.

he rips up the valley on the star. 

 

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	2. the devil wears prada ; supernatural au

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**the devil wears prada** ; _supernatural au_

 

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the threads of their lives get tangled in one of those inexplicable moments in life.  
  
( _coincidences. fate. another word in another language._ )  
  
the photoshoot is for a famous brand, something american and when yunho arrives, there's already someone else in the waiting room. tall and handsome, made in sharp, immaculate angles. unfamiliar. not from the local circuit. he's reading a book, its title curling across the sparse cover, announcing something too difficult for yunho's taste. yunho hesitates for a second before he settles into the opposite end of the couch.   
  
he resists the urge to fidget.   
  
a girl with aquamarine hair calls out " _jung yunho?_ " and yunho springs to his feet only to get embarrassed by his eagerness, wipes sweaty palms on his thighs. he's new to this. almost shaky with nerves. his borrowed clothes feel a little too tight and he nods at the girl, flashes her a smile because hojun-hyung tells him that good looks will get you far, but good manners get you further. she scoffs, unimpressed, and his smile wavers. that's when he makes the mistake of glancing at the other man. who raises an eyebrow, lips slanted into a smirk. it isn't cruel, more amused than anything else. his eyes are shades darker and yunho looks away first, follows the girl into a room lined with mirrors. yunho learns later that the man's name is shim changmin, the stylist noona tells him with a besotted grin. someone who models for prada, for gucci, the front covers of gq across the world.   
  
"he retired though, a couple years back," she says.   
  
"why?" _why come back now._  
  
she shrugs and pats creamy foundation over the scar carved into the side of his eyes. he looks into the mirror and sees a stranger. "ask him yourself."

 

.

 

the van idles quietly, the parking lot cold and empty. yunho pulls at the jacket (that isn't his, a bit too thin for the weather, too expensive for someone who came to seoul with just enough spare change for ramyun and nothing else). he blinks at his reflection on the tinted window, at shim changmin’s reflection layered over his. it takes yunho seconds to notice that shim changmin is looking at him.  
  
smiling.   
  
( _just like in wonderland. through alice’s looking glass, how convenient._ )  
  
yunho bites the inside of his mouth, ignores the voice that tells him to be careful of strangers and smiles back.

 

.

 

  
they're deposited into a brightly-lit studio few blocks away, cameras and lighting equipment positioned around a pool table right in the middle of the set. the photographer waves them forward and walks off, grunting clipped words and curses into a mobile phone. the door clicks shut behind him and silence crawls into the space he leaves behind, almost sentient. anticipatory. yunho's teeth worry over his bottom lip but he doesn't dare chew on it, mindful of the colours artfully applied by stylist noona. he knows better than to ruin her hard work, but he's never good at standing still and the knowledge that shim changmin is still staring at him magnifies the jitters in his chest. so he circles the table and finds some cue sticks at the back, a haphazard pile of them.   
  
"how about a game?"  
  
yunho inhales sharply and takes a startled half-step back, only to press against something solid. warm. shim changmin grabs one of the cues, his arm a casual loop around yunho’s and distance nonexistent. yunho wishes that the world would stop tilting into crazy angles under his feet. there's a whisper of breath, lips against the shell of his ear. faintly, the smell of sulphur smothered underneath expensive perfume.   
  
"if you lose-" the ghost of a smile, teeth grazing the back of yunho's neck. something tells him that he'd get eaten alive if he moves. "-i want your heart."

 

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	3. hand in hand in this descent ; mercenary au

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**hand in hand in this descent** ; _mercenary au_

 

.

  
  
"we can go to france," yunho says, amidst the cacophony of screams behind them. his smile is wild and bright and beautiful, lit up in flames, and changmin thinks this is a terrible time to fall in love. "you’ve always said you wanted to see the eiffel tower."  
  
changmin checks his watch, counting down seconds until their extraction. his mobile phone vibrates and there’s a text from kyuhyun. _eta 5min, stay put_. changmin tucks it away and calculates the distance between hong kong and paris. he doesn't even entertain the idea of refusing yunho. nobody refuses yunho. "they’ll want souvenirs."  
  
there’s a drop of red on the curve of yunho's collar, stark against pearl-white silk. yunho turns wide, expectant eyes on him. "we’ll blow the tower up and send pieces of it taped to postcards?"  
  
changmin's mouth twitches. "i was thinking along the line of t-shirts. or keychains." yunho's eyes crinkle, doesn’t look away and changmin reaches out to curl his fingers around yunho's wrist. his calluses are rough when pressed to his pulse, but yunho doesn’t pull away. he fits against changmin, slotting their sharp angles into perfect symmetry. changmin is still convinced it’s a terrible time to fall in love. "but i guess that works too."  
  
  
.  
  



	4. songbird ; lovecraftian au

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 **songbird** ; _some sort of a lovecraftian au who knows_

 

.  
  
  
  
_the city consumes. it lights up in brilliant hues, multi-coloured neons advertising everything a heart could ever want. million billboards flashing at the corners of your eyes, voices sweet as honey and you tell yourself "a quick visit won't hurt". you step inside, worn sneakers skimming streets lined with promises but it's never a quick visit. you never run out of things you want._  
  
_(what do you need, boy)._  
  
_so the city consumes. you trade a little bit of yourself for pretty little things your fingers will soon break. you trade and you break until there is nothing left, and you only notice when you wake up one morning, look into the mirror and you can't recognise the face looking back at you. just a stranger with broken pretty little things under the skin, instead of a heart._  
  
_"a quick visit won't hurt," you tell that stranger. he smiles, bright and empty. "we are still so very hungry."_  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
yunho finds a music box on his way home from dance practice, by a graffitied wall where the garbage man must've missed it during his usual round. the sun treks lower in the far horizon and he stares at it, wonders why the entire stretch of street is empty because it's usually bristling with those who are trying to keep to the curfew hours. yunho hesitates, his watch reads _you're late hurry up_ and he stops long enough to catch a glimpse of peeling ornate decorations, dark gems staring back at him with a hint of leftover glitter.  
  
as if to say _don't you want me_.  
  
yunho's been told that he always has a bit of a magpie in him, so he reaches out with curious, eager fingers and blames it on his magpie tendencies.  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
"you should stop bringing junks home." his mother doesn't look away from the stove and the radio plays a folk song with faded-yellow lyrics, in a language none of them understands anymore. outside, the sky grows dark as the town's siren goes off in warning. "we're running out of space for them."  
  
yunho steers the music box to the stairs. he bumps into the banister and adds another notch to the mental tally of daily bruises. "they're not junks."  
  
his mother snorts. something in the pot tries to slither out, tentacles stripped pink from boiling water and she nudges it back inside with a wooden spatula. "dinner will be ready in ten. get washed, call your sister and put that somewhere your dad won't see."  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
there's a carved initial at the base of its neck, on the dip just above the spine. yunho brushes over wisps of hair to see ' _changmin_ ' seared across otherwise smooth skin and an ownership tag that looks like it had been scratched over using too-sharp nails. yunho rubs a thumb over the raised welts and wonders if they hurt. if it bleeds. he finds an old shirt and a pair of jeans, doesn't watch as it changes. even when stray headlights paint silhouettes on his curtains and yunho sees reflections of streamlined muscles, the tailend of something that could have been more scars.  
  
he's heard about how they make music boxes, the unfortunate parents who would never see their children again.  
  
"you're changmin," yunho tells it, shadows wrapped around his words and turn them into whispers, secrets. his knees bump against changmin's. "can i call you that?"  
  
it looks at him and opens its mouth, amplifying silence until all they can hear is yunho's heartbeats. the hum of thousands tiny gears underneath too-real synthetic and yunho breathes loud enough for the two of them. its eyes are wide and a lighter shade under bright fluorescent, watching yunho placidly as it crosses its long legs. the jeans are a bit too short, ankle bones peeking out underneath worn denim. yunho leans forward and curls his fingers around changmin's neck to taste the residual vibrations.  
  
changmin is warm against his fingertips.  
  
"did you lose your voice?" yunho asks, finally understands.  
  
yunho gets his answer in the form of the downturned twitch of its mouth. damaged goods, then. it must've been thrown out by a careless owner, instead of being given a proper cremation. changmin blinks and yunho thinks he sees amusement lurking in those eyes, something terribly human. yunho drags a path with his fingers until he covers changmin's lips underneath the curve of his palm.  
  
"it's okay. i'll make you sing again."  
  
changmin closes its eyes and yunho catches a smile pressed against his skin.  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
yunho plays mozart for changmin on a gramophone he finds in a garage sale years. his sister watches them for a while, before she grows bored and heads upstairs to watch tv. the basement is soundproof, used to belong to a grandfather who now sleeps under the floorboards. he plays chopin and bach and brahms and every vinyl the dusty record store down the road has to offer.  
  
changmin laughs, soundless. it makes yunho put the beatles on repeat and yunho forgets his history homework as he stretches over the floor, changmin pressed to his side.  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
heechul calls yunho an idiot. "it's broken, isn't it."  
  
"i'll fix it." the radiator of an old car clatters under his boots and yunho toes it away, wiping his hands on the seat of his pants. he slings an arm around changmin's shoulder. "it can't be too difficult."  
  
"you always try to fix everything." heechul digs one stilletto-sharp heel into yunho's thigh. "well, you can always open it up. see if it has a heart."  
  
"that won't work," hojun counters, all easy, languid charm as he moves closer. he's shorter than both yunho and changmin, so he peers up at them. "it's not a toaster. you can't just open up a music box. they're complicated and expensive." hojun grins at changmin. "you are, aren't you?"  
  
changmin shrugs, turning away from hojun. with smudges of grease on its cheek, it looks neither to yunho.  
  
"besides," hojun continues, undeterred. "everyone knows these things don't have hearts."  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
silence is easier when changmin speaks in fleeting touches, flashes of bemused smiles.  
  
a language both foreign and affectionate.  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
the library offers little on music boxes in general. yunho walks past towering shelves of books and manuscripts and manuals, careful to skirt around a circle of girls tucked away at the back once he notices the black vines rooting them in place. he finds an unhelpful guide on popular music boxes through the ages, but it's dated fifteen years ago and the cover makes him queasy. the librarian is perched over the counter, a pair of spectacles balanced precariously over his curved beak.  
  
"excuse me," yunho says. he holds out his library card. "i'm looking for books on how to restore music boxes."    
  
"and why would you be interested in that, hmm?" red, avian eyes peer down at yunho. the clicks of his talons against polished wood are loud in the oppressive quiet. "did you find one?"  
  
yunho hates lying. "n-o."  
  
the librarian ruffles his feathers and takes yunho's library card.  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
yunho buys ice cream for changmin and spends the entire evening running his hands over changmin's face and hands and legs, trying to find the seams that hold it together.  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
"it's my birthday tomorrow." yunho collects pebbles and counts them out, arranges them into piles in front of his sand castle. they do nothing for its structural integrity, but it reminds yunho of the small hills he used to climb when he's much, much younger. the sea is deep green today and he watches something large undulates just under the surface. "i get a wish, right?"  
  
crash of waves drown out the seagulls and an ice cream truck driving past, blaring stilted tunes. they're miles away from home and changmin sits with its toes curled into the sand, a handful of seashells on its lap. it's wearing a sun hat because it looks like it'll burn easy and yunho likes the way changmin's eyes follows his movements.  
  
"i want you to sing for me," he says as he sticks a flag into a lopsided turret. "happy birthday is a good enough song, right?"  
  
it might have just been the sun, but yunho thinks changmin's smile is lacklustre underneath blue sky when compared to the comfort of his small, cramped room. but changmin finally nods and yunho watches his sand castle crumble in point five second.  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
yunho is too old for cakes and candles. instead, he steals to the roof with changmin's fingers curled around his and slices of pizza in a paper bag. he slips and slides, envies changmin's steady footing, but they find a niche where the crimson moon looks bigger over the looming wall that encircles their small town. the shapes around them are mostly familiar, but yunho knows enough that they might get into trouble if they run into other things more comfortable in the dark. his parents will be disappointed if they don't find him in the morning.  
  
it's not quite midnight yet and yunho sits close to changmin because it's freezing, even under layers of jackets.  
  
"do you celebrate birthdays?"  
  
changmin points to the back of his head and yunho remembers scratched-up tag, indents of the unreadables.  
  
"i guess that's not too bad then." yunho picks out pieces of pepperoni from cold pizza, wrinkles his nose at cheese underneath his nails. "we'll get you a cake next time."  
  
yunho thinks changmin might be laughing, but the clocktower three streets away chimes in time. something clicks and whirs and yunho opens his mouth to say something when changmin turns to stare at him.  
  
changmin's eyes glow pale gold and his voice dips and soars, lilting in unexpected places until yunho realises that it's a love song. whitewashed goodbyes, a sonata too far removed from the ones in vinyl records and yunho sinks into its velvety embrace as easy as breathing. changmin sings until light flickers in the distance, dyes the sky in hues of reds and oranges and yellows.  
  
changmin sings when yunho kisses it, warm and gentle and much, much too human.  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
_happy birthday, yunho._  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
"excuse me."  
  
the young man who stands before him wears tailored suit and a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. yunho raises an eyebrow, opens the door a fraction wider. "yeah?"  
  
"i believe you have something that belongs to me," he says and extends well-manicured fingers holding a business card. it reads _siwon_ in shimmering turquoise cursive. "i'm here to retrieve it."  
  
"what are you talking about." yunho wants to close the door and bolt it because he knows exactly what siwon is talking about. fear crowds his chest, makes it harder to breathe. "look, i'm sorry but i'm kinda busy right now."  
  
siwon's smile stretches and stretches. "this will just take a second. kyuhyun."  
  
another suit, symmetrical lines of royal blue and yunho knows it's another music box from the blank eyes, the beginning of a note slipping from parted lips.  
  
"they come as a pair, you see," siwon says, a hint of pride in his voice. kyuhyun's voice spins like spiderlilies and it's horror, fascination spilling into yunho's heart when he hears an answering call from somewhere behind him. "we've waited months for changmin to sing."  
  
he bows at yunho as changmin makes a straight line for kyuhyun, the back of its palm brushing over yunho's in a heartbeat. the jolt of too-late.  
  
"thank you for your assistance."  
  
changmin doesn't smile. siwon's smile doesn't waver.  
  
yunho can't look away.  
  
"and goodbye."  
  
  
  
  
  
_goodbye, yunho._  
  
  
  
.

 


	5. in sickness & in death ; gang au

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**in sickness & in death** ; _gang au_

 

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the building has a walk-in freezer in its basement. pigs and lambs on giant fish hooks, half-stripped with brittle bones frost-dusted in display. changmin finds yunho at the back, slouched over the far wall with skin the colour of corpses. blood powdered red over white cheeks, lashes dark and stiff, and he doesn't wake up even after changmin carries him out into sunlight. changmin swallows a scream as the family doctor gives him preliminary report and when he's told he should leave yunho in the old man's capable hands for now, he heads to the gym.  
  
his knuckles come away bloody after the first half-hour of pummelling the sandbag.  
  
boa finds him there, clicks of her stilettos cutting into the silence he's left behind. she leans against the doorway and watches him re-tape his hands. it's frivolous, but he'd like to make sure she doesn't see how hard they're shaking. "he asked for you."  
  
changmin stills. "he's awake?"  
  
"not anymore." the weight of her scrutiny raises the tiny hair at the back of his neck and he knows she isn't done with him. not by a long shot. there's a reason why boa remains yunho's closest confidant after decades in the business. "don't worry, we'll find them. in the meantime, your place is here, at his side."  
  
it's more an order than a mere statement. changmin's first instinct is to disagree, because it's his responsibility to make sure bodies drop in retaliation. he is, first and foremost, the family's enforcer. even if yunho dislikes the term, despite changmin's efficiencies in dealing with the brand of trouble that comes with the territory. he is also not under boa's jurisdiction and she knows it. but a larger part of him recognises that he is loath to leave yunho, especially after this entire clusterfuck.  
  
"you know he will feel better with you around."  
  
he waits until boa leaves to pack up and shower, watches hot water sluices away the crusted dark-red of congealed blood down the drain. his shoulder, his spine are still strung-tight, but he feels a lot less likely to punch bullet holes in some unfortunate degenerates who just so happen to cross his path. changmin changes into a fresh suit and only goes to yunho once everyone has cleared the room and stands at his bedside, jaw clenched tightly as he sees the damage done. in the half-light, the bruises are less harsh, less pronounced. but changmin knows they're there and each one is a reminder that he's failed the only person he's supposed to protect. yunho's brows are furrowed, one hand slipped out of the blanket as if in search of something. changmin reaches out, brushes his fingers over yunho's cheeks.  
  
and when yunho shifts, leans into the touch with a soft sigh, changmin's mouth finally loosens into a smile.

 

.

 


	6. semper et in perpetuum ; gang au

 

.

 

 **semper et in perpetuum** ; _gang au_  
  
*this chapter is brought to you by lana's birthday, who's always been so so supportive and spoils me way too much. so it's all happy things this time around! ily, lana.  ♥  
**there's sex in there, jsyk.

 

.

 

they're celebrating something. something important, maybe changmin’s impending graduation, but yunho doesn't really remember after his third beer. the bar’s loud and dark, gets louder and darker the longer the night drags on but the streets are lit bright enough for them to find their way to changmin's place. because it’s a lot more private. because changmin told him that tonight shouldn’t be about the family. tonight should be about _them_ , and yunho has never refused changmin anything and he isn’t about to start now. they spill out of the elevator in an uncoordinated tangle of hands and legs. yunho nearly trips because he's too busy being distracted by changmin's alcohol-bright eyes to remember how to put one foot in front of the other. changmin catches him before gravity does and yunho presses stifled giggles against the side of his neck as he picks through the keys.  
  
changmin smells like sweat. and cigarettes. and that earthy, dark scent yunho would’ve recognised anywhere.  
  
the door relents after changmin's second try and he nudges yunho inside. who stumbles and slides under the firm ministration of changmin's hands and the door closes with an unquiet slam (he thinks they should apologise to changmin’s neighbours but later, much later). they don’t bother with the lights and navigate through a minefield of furniture until changmin bumps against the couch. yunho laughs and pitches forward, grabs the lapels of changmin's jacket and drags him down. easy. they lay in a mass of liquid-lazy limbs and yunho can't really tell where he ends and changmin begins.  
  
it starts slow and languid and almost, almost inevitably. yunho angles his head to breathe easier, changmin does the same and their eyes meet in the middle. it's seconds, it's eternity and yunho moves before his brain can catch up, lips slipping and fitting. he swallows changmin's soft sounds like it's oxygen, greedy for every little gasp because now he's drunk on something other than alcohol. his hands scrabble at changmin's shirt, whining for a taste of warm, warm skin hiding underneath it. changmin shifts above him, pushing down and it's perfect, so fucking perfect that yunho can't really believe it's happening.  
  
" _fuck_ ," changmin hisses, breaks the kiss to draw in a shuddering breath. his tongue darts out to swipe over yunho's lower lip and he grinds down harder, rubs the bulge in his silk-smooth pants against yunho's. it’s driving him crazy and he whines for more. wants everything changmin is willing to give. changmin presses his lips against the corner of yunho's mouth and his voice trembles when he says, “do you—”  
  
yunho curls his hands around changmin's neck to pull him closer. changmin's eyes glitter with desperation, desires and something too dark, something so gentle that yunho wonders if he should be terrified. "god _yes_."  
  
changmin exhales and plants his knees on either side of yunho's hip, settles into awkward angles and heated press of skin against skin. he places a chaste kiss on yunho's lips before he leans back and strips off his jacket and creased shirt, undoes his belt with fumbling fingers. it’s the first time yunho sees him loose this much control – the changmin of their intertwined lives is a monolith, iron-clad in his control and conviction. yunho lifts himself up to pull off his own shirt,  but gets distracted when he catches a glimpse of ivory skin, shadows clinging to the definitions of changmin's muscles. he pauses to admire the view; changmin with lips bruised deliciously red, gelled hair irreparably tousled and his chest heaving with each breath.  
  
waiting for yunho. as he has always been.  
  
and everything falls apart, comes together at once.  
  
"i love you," yunho says. his brain registers the surprise on changmin's face and the way changmin's fingers dig almost painfully into his thighs. his hands shake when he settles them on changmin's. "i just— i thought you should know that, at least."  
  
changmin doesn't say anything. he stares at yunho, the dark of his eyes pulling his expression into something inscrutable. yunho doesn't realise he’s stopped breathing until he exhales when changmin smiles, whispers, "took you long enough, hyung." changmin surges forward, grabs yunho's shoulder and pins him down for a lingering, bruising kiss. changmin's smile is blinding when he breathes out, lips murmuring against yunho's, "now shut up and let me fuck you."  
  
yunho nips at changmin's bottom lip, heart beating a crazy rhythm in his ribcage with relief. with anticipation. "not here."  
  
he lets out a surprised shriek when changmin hauls him off the couch and manhandles him across the living room. they stumble laughingly into the bedroom, hands and mouths busy exploring the taste of skin. the back of yunho's knees bump into the bed and he falls on his back, dragging changmin along. changmin strips yunho's jeans off with clinical efficiency and skims his fingers along the muscled ridges of yunho's thighs, teasingly close to his cock. yunho whimpers, arches into changmin's touch and his fingers curl into the bedsheet.  
  
"changminnie, please— i need— i _want_ —"  
  
changmin scrapes his teeth against the juncture between yunho's thigh and pelvic bone, kissing and biting into the soft skin. he pushes down when yunho buckles up, aligns their bodies until they're a perfect fit once again with faces inches apart. "tell me."  
  
yunho jerks forward, tries to catch changmin's lips again but when changmin moves away, he flops back with a frustrated groan. " _you_. fuck. i want you right now please please _please_."  
  
changmin nods, all traces of teasing gone as he reaches for the bedside table. opens a drawer and pulls out a condom and a bottle of lube. yunho laughs when he sees them, but he’s pretty sure changmin can hear the strain as loud as his thundering heartbeats.  
  
"you okay?" changmin asks and he curves a palm around yunho's jaw, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles over the skin. "this isn't...your first time, right?"  
  
yunho bites his lip and shakes his head, feels a jolt of heat blistering down his spine when changmin’s eyes narrow into that dangerous glint that promises violent things. "it's been a while though,"  
  
changmin slips a hand into yunho's brief, palms yunho's cock with rough, almost painful strokes. he grins, shark-like, when yunho keens. "then we have a lot of catching up to do."  
  
changmin strips off his pants, pulls down both of their briefs and gets to work impatiently. yunho tries to hold onto him, but changmin grabs his wrists and pushes them to the headboard. stretching him out, entirely at changmin’s mercy. he squeezes a fair amount of lube onto his fingers and maps a wet, sticky trail over the length of warm skin, muscles jumping underneath his fingertips, until he teases one finger into yunho. who gasps and arches and bites out changmin’s name in a litany of breathless prayers, tears stinging at his eyelashes. he squeezes his eyes shut when changmin screws in the second finger inside and then the third.  
  
changmin takes his time with the preparation, as thorough as he’s been with everything else. it feels like a lifetime before those fingers retract and yunho is rearranged again, thighs being pushed up against his chest. he feels bared, on display and it would’ve been embarrassing if not for the ravenous look on changmin’s face as he looks down at yunho. the half-light makes him look near animalistic. but still so, so beautiful. yunho throws his head back into the pillow, a groan scraped out of his throat when changmin starts to push in, thighs and hands trembling from exertion. changmin feeds his cock into yunho in a few inches increments, prolonging the drag until it becomes nigh unbearable. yunho would’ve screamed if he has any air left in his lungs. changmin presses little gasps into sweat-slick skin once he’s fully seated and they breathe in unison, waiting for the discomfort to subside. yunho feels like he’s wound too tight, close to bursting around the seams, but he wants more oh he does want so so much more—  
  
" _move, changdol_."  
  
—that's it. yunho's voice hitches when changmin starts sliding out and pushing in again, but he's rocking back with small, encouraging movements. the burn gives way to ratcheting pleasure, static building at the back of his head that blots everything else out. changmin sinks bites into the back of yunho's knees and thighs, intent on leaving bruises. to mark. to remind yunho that this is real. yunho arches into him, urges him to go faster, harder, deeper. he wants to feel changmin for days, for weeks. for the rest of their lives, because this is where he wants to be.  
  
with changmin. loyal, steadfast, _i'm-in-love-with-you-too-jung-yunho_ shim changmin.  
  
they breath and move together, perfect clockwork.  
  
changmin mouths _i love you_ over and over and over again into yunho’s skin, with each snap of his hip, each bite of his teeth and nails.

and yunho thinks, _is it okay if i carve my name into your skin, your bones, your soul because you are mine mine mine_.

_as i am yours._

 

.

 


	7. empty measured, but with outstretched hands ; mafia au

 

.

 

**empty measured, but with outstretched hands** ;  _mafia_ _au_  


  
.  
  
  
  
yours is a dangerous world encased in bullet shells, in nights flashing redblacksilver that blur so much around the edges you've given up on ever keeping track. you count the number of suits you own, the scars you accumulate, the friends you've lost. it's a world that consumes without warning, breeds contempt and anarchy, ticking time bombs and molotov cocktails all rolled up in one shot glass you would've emptied without second thought.  
  
"p-please-"  
  
hands latch onto your perfectly-pressed trousers, creasing and grasping, and your finger curls around the trigger, just like a lover's caress.  
  
"they've given us the go-ahead."  
  
his words ring clearer than the gunshot and you don't need to look to know he's a few feet away. a safe distance, as if that makes a difference. you shake off the dead and stalks forward, heels digging into congealing blood and viscera. there's a flash of silver in your peripheral and the sound of a body hitting dirt follows a half-second later. the telltale whisper of sharpened blade sliding into its sheath is almost sweet in the middle of this orchestrated mayhem. you're taught to not bring a knife to a gunfight, but he'd obviously skipped that lesson.  
  
old-fashioned to a fault.  
  
"shall we, changdol?"    
  
he smiles, eyes quicksilver bright and you match his movement like you're clockwork. tick tock, tick tock. never a step out of beat. death dealers, waltzing in tandem. you can hear him hum a tune under his breath as he carves his way through faceless men, as you sink bullets into soft bodies with the same ruthless efficiency that have earned you a spot in the family's inner circle. blood soaks into the polished leather of your shoes and you think about sinking your teeth into his smiling lips. or maybe his jugular, that beautiful neck.     
  
it's when you're back in your apartment, scalding hot water sluicing away the evidence of carnage that you realise he's been humming the theme song of ' _jaws_ '.  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
you don't see him for weeks, months at times. it's either korea or japan, here or there and it's never in your design to meet halfway in between.  
  
sometimes you dream of him. nights when you drift between worlds and aren't quite sure if you're dead or alive. sometimes he's limp and ripped apart, still smiling despite his bloodied lips and you have your mouth over the slurs of his tongue. sometimes, you're so far into the future that you feel the brittle shake of your bones against him. sunlight pouring into the kitchen as you drink your favourite red wine and he nurses a cup of coffee, laughing warmly at something you've said. you wake up feeling wearier than when you first go to sleep, aching in someplace other than the wounds you carry.  
  
there are undercurrents of danger everywhere you turn and you don't have time to deal with foolish illusions of things that will never be.  
  
_(but you sleep, you dream and you still ache.)_  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
yunho doesn't flinch when you wrap your fingers around his neck and dig your fingers hard enough to break skin. in this side of your world, blood is an offering. a transaction. a promise. satisfaction sings hymns inside your head when his eyes flutter close after a few seconds, always so so trusting despite the nature of their business. you could've killed him then; snap his neck as easy as breaking toothpicks. but he knows you wouldn't. _you_ know you wouldn't. so you push him back into bed, pin him flat on his back with your hands and knees.  
  
your fingertips are stained carmine. sticky.  
  
you trail your hand over his exposed collarbone, the silky smooth glide of his tie between your fingers. you unravel the knot and use it to lash his hands together, take your own sweet time securing him to the headboard. his forehead creases at the stretch. he turns half-lidded eyes towards you and it sends lightningflash of fascination, excitement rushing through your veins. patience is a virtue you've learnt through painful experience, but you itch to spread him open for your viewing pleasure. to satisfy your curiosity, to see just how far you can push before he breaks.  
  
you remember the days when you're younger and he's already the acknowledged leader of your little group of strays. not because he's the biggest or the strongest or the fastest - it's just the simple fact that he burns the brightest. you were a lot more awkward back then: all skin and bones and eyes ears nose too big to escape notice. you're an easy target and they were merciless, sharpening their own teeth the only way they knew how. you thought about your parents often, but they're dead and buried and ghosts could do nothing against hungry, hungry boys.  
  
it was during one of the worse days that he found you huddled under the tree in the backyard. like a wounded animal, you shrunk into a tighter curl even if he was never one of those bullies. he crouched before you and the flat of his voice felt worse than the beating you'd just been given.

  
  
_"you should quit if you're not gonna take this seriously, changmin-ah."_

  
  
"hyung," you say. you press your elbow into the crook of his windpipe, cutting off air. yunho's body jerks in retaliation, but you're bigger now. stronger. "aren't you glad i didn't take your advice back then?"  
  
  
  
.

 


	8. even stars would fall (for you) ; stripper au

 

.

 

 **even stars would fall (for you)** ; _stripper au_

* this is for sweet, sweet lana, who surprised me with ko-fi (twice!). thank you so much for being such a wonderful, wonderful friend. you mean the world to me and i hope you're happy that you made me write fluff, of all things. ♥

 

_._

 

you meet him in a hole-in-the-wall club, sometime between midnight and early morning and he smiles at you because you have the cash and he has everything else you've ever wanted.

"what can i do for you?"

 _the things i'd rather do to you_ , your mind offers.

"dance," you say, because he's standing on the stage with spotlight spilling glitters over his skin. you lean forward, a little drunk even though your bottle of guinness is still untouched. "dance for me."

he stares at you for a second too long, smokes and mirrors and eyes too smudged to see through the careless smile you wear. you want to ask him if he likes what he's seeing, but then he's nodding and sliding up the metal pole like liquid fire and your brain decides to stop working.

because _holy fuck_.

 

.

 

sometimes, kyuhyun knows things even when you don't tell him anything. you think he might be an alien sent to earth to make your life miserable, since no human should be allowed to be this good at reading people.

"what kind of fucked up shit are you up to now, chwang?"

you shield your eyes from the sunlight and kyuhyun's judgement, both making your headache worse. "how'd you find out?"

his smile is grim as he straightens the magazines on your coffee table. "you're drinking in the middle of the day."

"oh." you roll the empty bottle with your toes until it's hidden under the table. he drops onto the couch and picks up the remote, flicking through channels. "went to a club with the guys yesterday. siwon's getting married, you know."

"and?"

"and nothing."

the arch of kyuhyun's eyebrow is damning. "you're a shitty liar."

you don't say anything in return.

because both of you know it's true.

 

.

 

you don't go to the club the next day or the next day or the week after because you have meetings and people to attend to, an obligation and a responsibility that allow you to drive a porsche and rent an overpriced apartment right in the middle of seoul. you're itching to get out of the glass-and-metal skyscraper, go home to your wines and books, but you smile at middle-aged women dripping with diamonds and allow them to chatter for ages about tiny dogs.

you finally escape under the pretense of getting a drink and newfound freedom leads you to a balcony on the other side of the building.

you're surprised when you find someone there.

you're even more surprised when it's someone you recognise.

"it's you."

he frowns for a second (you're offended he's taking the time) and recognition dawns with a small quirk of lips. "it's you," he repeats and he doesn't sound displeased.

you notice that he's wearing white-and-black. "you're a waiter?"

"yeah." he leans against the glass divider, away from your wondering eyes. wind rustles up his dark hair into a mess that reminds you of dirtier urges. he was strawberry blond the night you saw him the first time. "pays the bills."

"but i thought-"

there's laughter in his eyes when he cuts in, "night job."

you don't really understand it, always have been the privileged one with ivy league qualification hanging on the office wall but you nod. "sounds tough."

"gets better once you're used to it." he gives you a once-over, eyes lingering over your tailor-made suit and polished shoes and you don't know why it leaves you feeling embarrassed. "bet you've never fought for anything in your life, huh?"

"i do," you grit out, because you aren't some blue blood leeching off generations worth of inheritance. you worked your way up, fair and square. okay, maybe with a bit of an assistance from your father's office but he doesn't need to know that. "don't be so quick to judge."

you watch the smile on his face widen, eyes hard and challenging. "what would you fight for?"

you want to say ' _you_ '. your hands do the talking instead.

 

.

 

you have a nice table in your office.

it's antique mahogany flown from a small town in indonesia, something worth more than it should, and you think it's useful how easy it is to spread him all over the polished surface. you fumble with his belt, distracted by fingers digging into your back and his legs around your waist. he's kissing a wet trail over your jaw, murmuring words against your heated skin and you want him to stop, to never stop because goddamn, who invented belts in the first place?

he laughs as you curse everything in existence and loops an arm around your neck, pulls you towards him until you're speaking in a language of lips and tongues, no longer coherent as you taste mint and something spicy at the back of his mouth. you withdraw for a gasp of air and rub a thumb over his mouth in admiration. "fuck. you've got lips made for blowjobs."

he grins up to you, cheeks flushed. you want to see how low the red goes. "is that some kind of a compliment?"

"better take it as one."

"you're such a sweet-talker." he laughs, removes your hands because you're going nowhere with that belt. he takes his own sweet time undoing the buckles and it's driving you nuts, blood pounding as if you're made entirely of vessels. when the clasp finally gives out, you tug at the button and zipper at once and his laughter echoes between them. "impatient much?"

you kiss him just to shut him up.

 

.

 

"if you've decided to get alcohol poisoning, the least you can do is give me a week's notice so i can stop coming over to check if you're dead or not."

this is just one of those days when you feel like stabbing kyuhyun. "i'm still alive."

"not for long if you keep this up." you know he refers to the stack of bottles under the kitchen cabinet. kyuhyun grimaces when he looks at you. you haven't shaved for a couple of days, but that's hardly appropriate reaction. "c'mon, man. this isn't the first time you got dumped."

"you're an alien."

kyuhyun raises an eyebrow. "what."

"no, no. listen." you know you don't sound lucid (or even sane), but you decide to elaborate on your alien theory anyway. because it might be true and if exposed, kyuhyun might just leave for his home planet before you end up stabbing him. you like kyuhyun after all. "you're an alien because you can read mind. how do you know we broke up- well technically he didn't dump me because we weren't going out, but still! this proves you're an alien!"

kyuhyun looks at you with an odd glint in his eyes. you think he's charging up his laser beams and you're about to take cover when he says, "you sent me a text that's literally the entire lyric of red velvet's one of these nights. and when i called back, you rambled about strippers and whatever the fuck else."

"...oh."

"so. are you going to tell me about the guy who didn't dump you or do i have to get minho up in here?"

if kyuhyun isn't an alien, he must be the spawn of devil. must be.

 

.

 

you look at the piece of paper again, creased from too much folding and unfolding and you think kyuhyun better pull through this time around or you'll have his head when you get back. you don't question how he manages to come up with such information. kyuhyun works in mysterious ways.

much like god. only a lot more illegal.

you poke a finger at a button labeled 'push'. nothing happens. the wooden gates remain unyielding and you frown at the button as it mocks you in its worn-down glory.

"that doesn't work."

you turn to see him grinning at you, hands laden with plastic bags. he has round glasses over dark eyes, t-shirt and sweats to complete the ensemble. you think he looks better like that under the sunlight. you still want him either way. "huh."

"how did you find me?"

"the spawn of devil helped." at the confusion in his eyes, you grab one of the bags and raise an eyebrow. "aren't you going to invite me in?"

"depends. why are you here?"

"you never told me your name."

his eyes widen and it's almost funny, except none of you are laughing. "you came all the way here for my name?"

you take one step at a time, deliberate until you're inches away from him. your height has always been an advantage, but he's almost as tall. almost. "i can't ask you out if i don't know your name, right?"

it takes minutes, something like eternity, but when he smiles at you, it's a sight you will remember for the rest of your life.

"jung yunho. nice to meet you."

 

.

 


	9. redux ; cyberpunk au

 

.

 

**redux** ;  _cyberpunk_ _au_

 

.

 

the poison. this is all the fault of that poison.

changmin pounds down metal stairs and across gaping holes in the wall, rushes past rows of unlit crystal cases without a word. the emergency toolbox felt heavy, unfamiliar in his hands. a sudden tremor from the other side of the facility makes him stop, worry creasing his forehead and he resumes his interrupted journey with longer strides. everything is falling apart. he halts in front of a pair of doors, swears loudly when an automated voice informed him that he's not authorised to enter the section. he swipes his id card against the slot and punches in security codes again. the weight in his hands, on his shoulders multiplies within the few seconds of the process.

it would've been easy for the encryption to get scrambled.

the main computers are already fried, they figured as much.

the doors finally slide open at his third try and he hastily heads for the only lit case in the whole section, sighs in relief when the readings he find are relatively stable. he's already on his knees, drops the toolbox with an obnoxious clatter on the control panel and ignores the spill of technological paraphernalia somewhere around his ankle. the poison has started to affect the central system, powering off generators after generators and he's only three sections away from imminent doom.

the rest of his team had evacuated when the first alarm went off.

but changmin isn't about to leave without yunho.

he smooths a hand over the crystal case, over stencilled ‘ _yunho, jung_ ’ on an identification module and narrows his eyes at hints of decay on otherwise familiar features. he wonders how long the incubation can hold out on emergency supply. lights flicker above them, illuminating half-transparent optic cords and the sight of soot black lashes resting over pale cheeks, pallid lips slightly parted makes him try the keycards at once. changmin flicks through them desperately, fitting one after another in quick succession and a choice expletive slipped past clenched teeth with each failure.

there's not enough time left, seconds until the last generator sputters and dies and plunges the whole place into inky darkness. just like the rest of the forest. those still connected to the grid would be cut off. dead. left to rot in their glass cases. he glances at the gigantic watch displayed over the observation dock and fumbles with the cards, almost drops them in his panic. not enough time, never enough. he stuffs them inside the toolbox after a second of hesitance and unhooks metal braces at the head of the case, pulls on rubber gloves as sparks crackle in greeting. wires, cords, online feedback threads are plugged in the dozens to the motherboard, a tangle of colours and his hands hover above them, uncertain as to which to disconnect without overloading yunho's mental processors.

blue. yellow. green. red.

changmin pauses for a second, clenches and unclenches his fingers. beads of cold sweat prickle at the back of his neck.

_red_.

it must be the red ones. red has always been yunho's favourite colour.

changmin curls his finger around the thick, red cable.  
  
he sends a quick prayer to a god he doesn't believe in anymore and pulls.

 

.

 


	10. life for rent ; hooker au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *written for @ changyun_run 60 minutes challenge on twitter. it's a great writing exercise, imo, that combines two of my favourite things - changyun and twitter. :D (also i did cheat a bit. because i went back and edited the drabble after i was done, so i... kinda...... went over the 60 minutes......... deadline...........)

  
.

 

 **life for rent** ; _hooker au **  
**_

*for the week #1 prompt: _nighttime story (direct trans of the korean title for city lights)_.

 

.

 

changmin knows what they have is nothing more than a transaction. a business deal. paid for by the bills in his wallet. always cash. he catches a glimpse of the picture when he's counting out the thousands: his vibrant wife, bright smile and the honey-glazed brown of her hair. waiting for him at home with dinner and that vintage bottle of red wine saved for special occasions.

 _'honey.' she sounded distorted over the phone. his secretary had looked at him expectantly, already late for a meeting with the board of directors. but he always makes time for her, the perfect husband. i have something to tell you. 'will you be home early tonight?'_  
  
he smiles that slow, wine-dark smile and pulls changmin to him. his touch burns, sears away the afterimage of the picture, the trace of her voice.  
  
"you're early today," he says, eyes crinkled to match the curl of his mouth. he's still wet from the shower, skin soft and warm under changmin's hands. "i've missed you."  
  
changmin nods, bile at the back of his throat and he would've choked on it if he's a better man. but he swallows and allows deft fingers to unbutton his shirt. the room is dimly-lit, the wall painted in muted shades of gold. and dark red. the only thing that matters is the bed in the middle of it.   
  
' _sure,' he told her. what he didn't say was that he'd already seen the pregnancy test box in the bathroom trash can. that he ran out to hide behind the incessant demands of work, with guilt clogging his throat. 'i'll try.'_  
  
"i can't stay," changmin tells him. he presses his fingers into a wrist, trying to still it. the pulse there beats against his fingertips. he's pulled down to the bed and he repeats, faint like an echo, "i can't stay."  
  
"just tonight," he whispers, sweetly. and he kisses changmin's eyes until he's the only thing changmin can see. "it's my birthday, y'know."  
  
changmin could've said no. should've told him about the woman waiting for him back home, the tiny life growing inside her belly, one that carries a part of himself. but the smile before him is expectant and so, so beautiful, haloed by a light that doesn't come from anything artificial. so he says _yes_. his stomach twists. his heart stutters.  
  
changmin wishes he'd met him years, decades ago.  
  
changmin wishes he'd met him at the beginning of their lives.  
  
"happy birthday, yunho."  
  
changmin thinks _this is it. this is goodbye_.

 

.

 


	11. when life gives you lemons ; sleeping beauty au

 

.

 

 **when life gives you lemons** ; _sleeping beauty au_

*for the changyun_run 60 minutes challenge @ twitter. week #2 prompt: _princess_.

 

.

 

  
changmin stumbles upon the castle quite by accident. he threw mangdoong's ball too hard and the tiny dog bounded after it enthusiastically, disappeared behind a curtain of ivy at the edge of the park and is still currently missing. he follows her excited yaps only to find a crumbling behemoth of a building, looming above him like a disapproving giant and he wonders how he's never seen it before. since, you know, it's huge. and creepy. he kicks a stray piece of brick and the castle looms even more disapprovingly than ever, if that is even possible.

mangdoong yaps again, wagging her tail and scrabbling up a flight of stairs, much to changmin's exasperation. "come back- no, don't go there! wait!"

this isn't something he'd signed up for. he's supposed to be back in fifteen minutes, supposed to be a quick exercise for mangdoong because she's getting too fat for her own good. but now here he is. stalking around an abandoned relic. like indiana jones. he would feel more badass if he has a cowboy hat and a bullwhip though. instead of an unruly dog... that seems to have found some sort of a hidden chamber in a creepy, hidden castle.

_great._

the chamber holds rotting furniture and an assortment of banners hanging on its wall, mold rendering them ugly and unreadable. changmin pauses when he notices the large four-poster bed in the middle of the chamber and this begins to feel like the first five minutes of a horror movie. he's pretty sure that means he's going to be subjected to some kind of a gruesome death just to get the plot going. changmin likes living, thank you very much, so he's going to go. now. but not without his dog.

he eventually finds her sitting on her haunches at the foot of the back, her muzzle pulled back into the canine equivalent of a grin. she doesn't look like she's about to go cujo on his ass, so he carefully inches towards her. there are cobwebs and shredded pieces of silk hanging from the vertical columns of the bed, solemn grey like a congregation of ghosts. he's only a few feet away when he notices the vague outline of a human shape lying on the bed and his brain just hits the panic button.

_corpse! holy shit that's a corpse!_

changmin rears back in surprise, mangdoong barks and darts towards him, tangling between his legs. he doesn't really know what happened but he pitches forward, gravity laughing at him and he finds himself crashing onto the bed. right on top of the corpse-shape.

changmin would've screamed but his mouth is kind of pressed tightly against something soft and warm and-

-alive.

he opens his eyes to stare straight at the face of a young man, right about his age. who has his eyes closed, dark crescents of eyelashes fluttering over pale cheeks. his bow-shaped lips are squished underneath changmin's. changmin scrambles off the bed at once and onto the floor, mangdoong immediately twining herself around him with a plaintive whine. nothing happened for the next few seconds and changmin is too busy trying to convince his legs to move so that he can get the hell out of dodge when he hears a creak from the bed.

he can physically feel his heart crawling up his throat.

changmin looks up to find the not-corpse-but-maybe-a-zombie staring down at him. before changmin can scream for real because _what the fuck is happening oh god_ , he says, "are you my prince charming?"

changmin stares. the frantic hive inside his brain stutters to a stop. "who."

"prince charming. the one who kissed me and broke the spell." he pushes back an unruly spill of dark hair from his face as he looks at changmin. "you are him, yes?"

"what. no!" changmin wobbles to his feet, takes a step back and squints at the guy. he doesn't look dead, far from it actually. would've been cute if it isn't for the obvious fact that he's batshit crazy. "look, man-"

"your highness," he interjects primly.

changmin rolls his eyes. "whatever. look. i don't know what kind of weird sex games you're involved in, but you shouldn't be lying in a moldy bed alone in a place like this."

"but-"

"i have to go." changmin gather mangdoong in his arms. he hesitates for a second, before adding, "sorry for kissing you though."

the guy's face light up. like a beacon. "you kissed me!"

"it was an accident!"

he lurches out of bed, bare feet stumbling like a newborn colt. reacting on pure instinct, changmin drops his dog and rushes forward to catch the guy in his arms. he frowns when he realises how light the guy is underneath the layers of ridiculous silk he's wearing. the guy clutches onto him, eyes wide and brimming with tears.

"you're my prince charming!"

changmin's head goes _oh hell_.

 

.

 


	12. distance makes the heart fonder ; gang au

 

.

 

**distance makes the heart fonder** ; _gang au_

 

.

 

changmin steps into the spacious bathroom, bare feet sliding soundlessly over the blue tiles he'd helped yunho pick out the year before. it's easy to get distracted by the stretch of skin uncovered by soapy water and bubbles, but he makes the long detour to the vanity, peeling his clothes off piece by piece. he hears gentle sloshing from behind and his mouth twitches into a grin when he turns to find yunho leaning over the side of the bathtub, staring at him.

"like what you see?" changmin teases, placing his folded clothes neatly on the countertop. he's down to his black briefs and decides to take his time, grin widening at the way yunho's eyes darken as he rolls down the skintight fabric. it's when yunho starts pouting that he relents. "don't make that face at me, hyung."

"you're so mean, changdol." yunho's pursed lips glisten under the fluorescent light, cherry red. "i didn't see you for three days and you weren't there at the airport to pick me up."

"you know i had to attend that meeting with your father, hyung. siwon was there, wasn't he?"

"yeah," comes the grumble. yunho props his chin on the curved edge of the tub, eyebrows furrowing to accompany the pout. "but he's not _you_."

warmth uncurls inside the cavity of changmin's chest. in three strides, he cuts down the distance between them and kisses yunho's forehead before he slips into the tub, curling his arms around yunho's waist to shift him closer. fingertips graze the cut of yunho's hipbones, familiar. yunho bends his legs to give changmin more room and settles back against him, tipping his head back to rest on changmin's collarbones. they settle deeper into the water, the world falling away around them. yunho is graceful even in such tight confines, knees and elbows and shoulders slotting into position with ease, and changmin watches the way water and hubbles ripple around them, undulating in gentle waves. his legs frame yunho's and he drags a hand from yunho's pelvis towards his knee. digs his fingers into the soft underside.

he laughs when yunho shudders.

"i've missed you too," he says, leaning forward so that he can mouth along the languid line of yunho's neck. his eyes skitter to the scar he finds there, a reminder that he'd once nearly lost him. a mistake he wouldn't make again. "how was your trip?"

yunho turns his head slightly, cheek to cheek, mouths so close and shoulder blades shifting against changmin's chest. pressed together like this, changmin can feel yunho's heartbeats. muted by water and the flimsy trapping of skin, but still a steady thrum that echoes inside his own veins. yunho is both steel and softness, pliant under changmin's hands and he runs fingers over the raised line of yunho's spine. the older man has lost weight again, probably skipped more than a few dinners when he was away. changmin frowns at the thought, dislikes those instances where he's called away from yunho's side to tend to more pressing family matters.

as if there's anything else more important than the man in his arms right now.

"the negotiation went well. they still haven't agreed to our terms, but it won't be long before they have no other choice." there's a second of hesitation, before yunho adds, "the old man tried to set me up with his daughter."

" _what_." the word is a low rumble at the back of changmin throat and he angles closer, mouth pulling into a snarl. his hand finds the outline of yunho's ribs when he pushes a bit harder. "what did you say?"

there's a laughing lilt to yunho's voice when he turns towards changmin, kisses the downturned curl of changmin's mouth sweetly. "i told him i've already found the love of my life."

changmin narrows his eyes but relaxes, anger not quite gone. just left to simmer under his skin and he makes a mental note to accompany yunho next time he's heading down south. he kisses yunho back, turning it dirty and hungry within seconds. he kisses him hard enough to bruise. biting teeth and tongue sliding into the warm softness of yunho's mouth and his hands move lower to yunho's hips, pulling him back so his ass is flush against changmin's hardening cock. yunho writhes and tries to turn around, but changmin keeps him pinned. cuts the kiss to bite into yunho's jaw, neck, shoulder. leaving indents, purposeful and possessive. yunho's breathing has gone louder in the silence of the bathroom and his chest heaves as he grinds back.

changmin's grin sharpens.

"c'mon, hyung. let me show you how much i've missed you."

 

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	13. from the other side of your little universe ; hooker au

 

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 **from the other side of your little universe** ; _hooker au_

* continuation from [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15232740/chapters/41147738).

 

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changmin doesn't come. not tonight, not the nights before. he doesn't come around anymore ( _how long has it been since?_ ) and yunho craves for the aching familiarity of his presence. he should've known better than to fall in love. changmin must've found someone else. someone younger, prettier, better than him.

someone who isn't yunho.

the city branches off into neon-bright streets, the moon an imperfect silver coin hiding behind the dark silhouettes of countless skyscrapers. yunho doesn't walk the street; he's much too expensive for that, but he'd escaped under the guise of getting some coffee. there's a young man with a stumbling smile and dyed hair lingering at the entrance of their discreet building, who smiles nervously at yunho, holding out a questioning hand. _maybe another day_ , yunho tells him, hopes that he gets someone soft and gentle tonight. yunho walk off before he can say anything else and it starts to rain just as the light turns green at the intersection.

the streets suffocate, thousands faces blending into one giant pantomime that diverges on cues, goes everywhere and nowhere all at once. the asphalt is slick with water and yunho pulls his hood lower with raindrops rolling off his fingertips, eyelashes. the world slides inside the cascade of water, landscape in watercolours. umbrellas blossom like flowers and there's a couple crossing from the other side, pretty against the blurry backdrop with their red umbrella. yunho looks up and catches changmin's eyes and _ah_. now he understands. now he knows. she's still laughing at something he said, oblivious in her happiness and warm in the half-embrace of changmin's arms.

yunho still remembers how tightly changmin held onto him, the bruises he left like loveletters.

( _but that's a lifetime away, isn't it?_ )

he doesn't stop. changmin doesn't either and their shoulders brush when they walk past each other.

 

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	14. time is gold ; canon

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**time is gold** ; _canon_ _  
_

*for the changyun_run 60 minutes challenge @ twitter. week #3 prompt: _dressing room_.

 

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changmin loops his arms around yunho’s waist, palms pressed against yunho’s ass as he pulls the older man closer. zero distance. into that little universe where the rest of the world fades into muted colours and all he sees are the dark crescents of yunho’s eyelashes, the glitter in his eyes and the lush fullness of his lips. he hitches yunho’s legs higher, hands sliding from his ass to the underside of his thighs in an almost gentle caress. he cants his head down to press his mouth over the crook of yunho’s smile and lets his tongue coax open those lips, slide over yunho’s teeth to catch the residual taste of their morning coffee.

he slips a hand underneath yunho’s vest, but doesn’t get far when fingers curl around his wrist.

changmin raises an eyebrow, impatient.

“we shouldn’t,” yunho says, a half-whisper. he mouths the words against changmin’s jaw and despite what he’s saying, he doesn’t pull away. his free arm rises to twine along changmin’s shoulders instead. “changdol-ah, we could get caught.”

their position is precarious; the arm of the couch is a poor place for this kind of thing, but changmin doesn’t mind paying for damage if it means that he gets to keep yunho in his lap for what little sliver of privacy they’re given. red has always looked good on yunho and changmin itches to peel the jacket off, the vest next. to touch skin upon skin. out there, he wouldn’t have the chance to be this close. not when they’re both under the scrutiny of the entire world. the hot lights, circling cameras and the screaming fans – the entire circus.

here, he can touch yunho as much as he wants. in ways he doesn’t want anyone else to know.

a dressing room is not as good their apartments, but changmin will take what he can get. 

“door’s locked, hyung.” changmin bites into yunho’s bottom lip, hard enough to leave indents. he grins when yunho shudders. “and we still have twenty minutes until they expect us onstage.”

yunho's eyes are slits, his bruised lips parting breathlessly around the word, “yeah?”

“yeah.” changmin’s fingers find the first button holding yunho’s vest together. he pops it out of its hole, nails grazing the skin of yunho’s stomach. yunho inhales sharply, hips twitching. “gonna make every minute count, okay?"

“—okay.”

 

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	15. once more, we dance ; alt canon

 

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**once more, we dance** ; _alt canon_

 

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yunho spends hours in different studios, days blending into nights and sometimes he gets so tired he feels like he's sleepwalking through scripts and stylists patting his face, clothes into place. hiding his flaws from the cameras and he's perfect through and through. eyes that crinkle when his mouth quirks, cute gestures meant to be noticed (he’d practised them until they’re second nature) and yunho's mind runs on autopilot as he follows millions of instructions all at once.

_smile. dance. make them laugh._

_make them love you, yunho. make them want you more._

yunho nods, smiles his perfect smiles and looks at changmin’s stoic face behind the gaggle of tv crew. sometimes their eyes meet and changmin will offer him a nod. as if to say, _hang in there_. yunho isn’t sure what he’d do without changmin. who keeps him caffeinated throughout the day, makes sure he gets to his schedule on time and reminds him to eat at least twice a day. the next time yunho glances at changmin, he’s frowning at his phone. walks off set to do his managerial duties, maybe calmly threaten people into doing his biddings. changmin's very good at that.

yunho forgets his lines in changmin's absence and the crew looks at him with slanted eyes, lips curled in either worry or confusion because they can't decide whether to comfort or to reprimand.

_are you okay? did you get enough sleep? why are you here, yunho-sshi?_

yunho wants to say _no, no_ and _why don't you tell me_ but he nods and tells them he's just wondering if he can get _one more cup of coffee, please, noona?_

the studio lights are bright enough to blind and they don't see his smile breaks along smooth edges.

changmin drives him home in the early hours of the morning. they exchange ‘ _goodnight_ ’s even when it’s too late to do so and yunho climbs countless stairs, one hand pressed firm against the wall for support. he finds the right door, but his hand shakes when he tries to punch in the security code and it’s a few tries before he manages to get it right. the door swings open, slow and quiet. yunho toes off his shoes, staggers inside like his bones are made of lead and turns to close the door.

"thought i'd stay over," changmin says, a faint smile upon his mouth. “i should make sure you actually wake up tomorrow.”

yunho isn't alone and the world doesn't look so empty anymore.

he exhales, blinks once twice at changmin. takes a step forward only to trip and changmin catches him with arms wide and ready. there's a stretch of silence as yunho's heartbeats threaten to spill all over the place and he clings to changmin like he's drowning because maybe he is and he can't really breathe, not right now. his fingers curl into the folds of changmin's shirt and changmin pulls him closer, closes the door behind them.

a dim light keeps the apartment from being too dark, soft glow spreading over inky black and changmin manoeuvres them around silhouettes of furniture until they find the bedroom. yunho sighs as changmin pries him away, keeps him standing long enough for changmin to slide over and start peeling layers of clothes off of yunho. changmin is quick and precise, clockwork in his efficiency and he coaxes yunho into a comfortable t-shirt and pyjama bottoms within minutes.

"hey." changmin breaks the silence with a whisper, arms still half-cradled around yunho's waist. yunho is grateful that changmin knows enough to not let go. "you okay?"

yunho nods, leans forward until his face is tucked into the crook of changmin's neck and the world spins as changmin swipes the pads of fingers over yunho's cheeks. "i'm tired," he mumbles and changmin nods, hums a maybe-lullaby into yunho's ears. it sounds like fairytales and crumbling kingdoms in imaginary deserts. it sounds like _once upon a time_ s and _happily ever after_ s.

"come on, yunho," changmin says between disjointed melodies. changmin watches him with quiet eyes and rubs soothing circles where his fingers find bare skin. "let’s get you some sleep."

they trip, stumble to bed and changmin kicks at tangles of blankets, pillows to clear everything away. he rolls on his side and tugs at yunho until yunho's back presses comfortably against changmin's chest. changmin twines his legs with yunho's and nuzzles closer. inhales and kisses the back of yunho's neck.

yunho breathes, dreams of the sea and of lands far, far away.

 

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	16. at the end of the world ; cyberpunk au

 

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**at the end of the world** ;  _cyberpunk au_

 

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"the city is dying."

yunho nods, slow and thoughtful, but he doesn’t look away from the window. the light above them flickers like fireflies, one two seconds and somewhere in the sprawling city, generators are shutting down one by one. emergency broadcast runs through the wires in endless loop since morning, but yunho doesn’t need to know through the radio; he listens to voices inside his head instead.

changmin closes the door behind him. "we have to get out before they close the borders."

"i can’t go."

an explosion two streets away rattles the building and something on the mantelpiece stumble off, shatters into tiny, china pieces. changmin frowns at yunho. "what the hell are you talking about?"

yunho raises his hands and the wires, thick synthetic ropes plugged to the ports on his wrists, bristle into life. yunho’s dark eyes ( _top-of-the-line optical lenses; night vision, magnification, image-capture optional upon purchase_ , the salesman had said with a flourish a decade ago) meet changmin’s in a moment of resignation. "they’re cutting us off from the power grid. i’m getting disconnected, changminnie."

" _fuck_." changmin grits his teeth, reaches out for yunho with trembling hands. he runs his fingers through yunho’s hair and rests his forehead against yunho’s. feels the hum of intricate machinery behind the synthetic skin. "i’m not going without you."

"don’t be silly." yunho's voice is firm. his thumb brushes changmin's cheek and that's when changmin realises he's crying. "you have to live."

"not without you."

"yes." yunho smiles, one of those that reaches his eyes and makes everything supernova-bright. the one that should’ve lasted forever. he kisses the corner of changmin’s mouth. "promise me."

changmin swipes at the tears, straightening. "we can try. i’ll find a generator, something from the factories-"

"it won’t work. you know that." changmin knows. he designs enough artificials to know. yunho is an older model, immaculately maintained but he isn’t created for long-distance. he would require a complete overhaul and time isn't on their side. it hasn't been for a while. "changminnie, promise me you’ll live."

changmin buries his face into the crook of yunho’s neck, chest clenching so tight that he wonders if dying would hurt more. the street erupts into a cacophony of screams, garbled words muted by gunfires and explosions. changmin clutches yunho closer, tighter.

"you have to go. now."

changmin nods and pulls yunho in for a kiss, brief and desperate. "i’ll come back for you. once these fuckheads move on, i’ll come back, okay. get into the vaults and stay there." he kisses yunho again. "it won’t be long."

"yes."

changmin grabs his evacuation pack and hesitates by the door. someone screams outside and the zeppelins would leave in ten minutes. "wait for me."

"forever, changminnie." yunho's smile is lit with fondness. and love. and changmin hurts. he's still standing with his back to the window, silhouette cut-out from the grey, thick smoke rising outside. "i’ll wait for you forever."

 

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End file.
